Its a magical life
by The Little House Scribe
Summary: Various shorts and oneshots from the Harry Potter universe.
1. Follow the Butterflies

**Follow the butterflies. **

_"Why can't it be 'follow the butterflies'?" - _Ronald Billius Weasley, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

After a most harrowing ordeal in the Forbidden Forest, in which Ronald Weasley and his best friend Harry Potter were nearly devoured by Rubeus Hagrid's 'friends', Ron and Harry were sneaking back into the castle that was Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Ron, whom the events of the evening affected at a higher level than Harry, was continually mumbling under his breath. Harry, meanwhile, was trying to work out the puzzle of the Chamber of Secrets, the Heir of Slytherin and the monster they unleashed.

Ron suddenly stopped and smiled. Harry froze to keep the invisibility cloak covering them.

"What?" Harry asked. "Something about the Chamber? You figured something out?"

"There." Ron pointed. He spoke dreamily, his finger held up by the slightly swaying arm, as if he couldn't find the willpower to keep it steady. Harry looked to where he was pointing.

It was a butterfly, flying, delicately flashing through the dim light that the stars and the castle provided.

_'What's a butterfly doing out at night anyway?' _ Harry wondered, but then stranger things than a butterfly flying in darkness had happened. '_Maybe it's a nocturnal butterfly_.'

"We should follow it." Ron decided.

"Why?"

"It's a magical butterfly. Come on with me Harry, and follow the butterfly."

"Ron, we don't have time to follow the butterfly, we've got to get back in before someone finds us missing."

"Harry!" Ron admonished. "Follow the butterfly with me; after all, I followed the spiders for you."

When Harry was just about to oppose such a plan, Ron threw off the cloak and charged at the butterfly, the butterfly did not seem to care for a lanky boy storming into its buttery space, so flapped away.

"WAIT!" Ron called. "Come back."

Harry, who stayed under the cloak, was running as fast as he could without revealing himself, but he was fast losing Ron, who, being taller and running free, pelted around a side of the castle. The butterfly flapped to a distant wall, and perched on a window sill. Harry ran around the castle to see Ron sneaking up on the innocent insect.

The innocent insect wished to avoid capture, and flapped through the open window when it sensed Ron's approach. Ron raced to a door into the castle which was close by. Of course, it was locked. Ron started pulling and heaving at it. To avoid the noise attracting the attention of a teacher or prefect, Harry hurried over and pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora!"

The door inched open, and Ron ran in, hunting for his butterfly.

"Ron!" Harry whispered angrily as Ron pelted around the corner and out of sight. Harry wrapped the cloak around himself, and tried to follow Ron before he got himself into trouble - or worse.

_'I shouldn't have made him come with me. It's affecting him badly.' _Harry thought to himself. The trail seemed to be going cold, but every time Harry thought Ron had lost him, he gained sight and or sound of him once more.

As for the butterfly, all its life it had been well served by the thought that up is safer. So the butterfly flew up, until it found a sunflower it could rest on.

Ron was soon on it, but the tall, ginger-haired boy seemed wary of approaching the butterfly. This gave a cloaked Harry the chance to join Ron, all the way up on the seventh floor of a tower they'd never been to.

And Harry, Ron, the Butterfly and the Sunflower were not alone.

A first year, judging by her size, Ravenclaw was with them. She, however, was engaged in a one-way conversation with the door knocker. Harry wondered why she was out of her common room at this hour with all the dangers around, but after all, he knew he was not one to judge.

Ron though, espousing any manners, decided to make a grab for the butterfly perched on the Sunflower in the girl's dirty blonde hair.

Of course, Ron missed, the butterfly flew away, and the girl gave a small cry of pain when Ron emerged with a fistful of her hair.

The girl's voice seemed to partially bring Ron out of his butterfly hunting reverie. He released he was in a part of the castle he had never been with a girl he had never seen.

"Hello, Ronald Weasley." The girl said before turning around. "Have you come to speak with Hansen?"

"H-Hansen?" Ron asked. The girl turned around to face him, wide blue eyes staring, unblinkingly at him. Ron started slowly backing away.

"Yes, Hansen is Georgina, and will be Brian, unless he wants to be Jacqueline tomorrow."

Ron's eyes widened as he felt around on the balcony behind him for the stairway. This girl made Percy seem like he always made perfect sense.

"Hansen doesn't have much to say right now. But he knows some excellent puzzles if you knock on him. Would you like to try?"

"Err...no thanks...I'll be going now...nice to meet you and all..."

"I'll see you later Ronald. You have the most handsome toenails."

Ron glanced at his completely shod feet. Quite freaked out, Ron pelted past an equally bewildered Harry Potter, mumbling "I'll never follow the butterflies again."


	2. George Weasley is doing too much

**George Weasley is doing too much.**

"You're wasting your life!" George cried out, throwing down the latest edition of Witch Weekly on the living room table.

Harry Potter, whom he was addressing, looked up from his Evening Prophet. A turn had come in George's behaviour in recent times. After spending ages in mourning for the loss of his brother Fred, George had decided that, whilst he himself could never be perfectly happy, George could make sure everyone else is. Fred would have wanted them to be happy.

"Umm...Why would you say that George?" Harry asked.

"Look at you. At home at..." George glanced at his watch. "Good Gracious, half past eight! You should be ashamed of yourself Harry!"

George picked up Witch Weekly, strode around the table and thrust the front cover into Harry's line of sight.

WITCH WEEKLY'S SEXIEST BACHELORS!

The headline proclaimed, with a clearly photo shopped image of a topless Harry emblazoned underneath. Harry snatched the magazine out of George's hands and threw it into the fire, shuddering from the horrible sight.

George gazed at Harry pityingly.

"Ginny's not going to like that..."

"Like what?" Harry asked, still badly scarred from the image.

"You burnt her magazine." George lowered his voice to a conspiratol whisper. "I suggest you find a place to hide."

Harry chuckled. "You're pulling my leg George. Ginny doesn't read that nonsense." Harry returned to the article he was reading.

"Oh, well, she has a subscription." George remarked.

Harry pulled the newspaper down again.

"How do you know?"

George grinned. Harry, though delighted George was finally smiling again, was terrified for himself. That grin never bode well.

"Trade secret, Harry, mate."

George then sat himself on the arm of Harry's chair. "But you see, Harry, Ginny isn't the only girl with subscriptions to Witch Weekly."

"What are you getting at George?"

"There are thousands of beautiful young witches who are dying to get a chance to meet you, Harry. You could spend a thousand evenings, each with a new girl. Think of it Harry!"

"You mean, thousands who want to meet the Boy - Who - Lived, the Chosen One. No thanks George." Harry paused, considering his next words. "Besides, I go out."

"With Ron and Hermione and Ginny. Harry, they're your friends. You need some luurve in your life."

"Seriously George, I'm fine with my dating life. Really."

"Oh?" George asked, a wily smirk playing on his lips. "Is that why you have a copy of _12 failsafe ways to charm witches _in your possession?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Ah ha! So you don't deny it!" George crowed triumphantly.

Harry shook his head.

"Well, Percy found it." George paused, then continued.

"Percy. He thought it was ours - Fred and -" George stopped his cheerful attitude instantly, and his voice became watery. "I. As if we - I need something like that to charm the ladies..."

George smiled weakly. "Of course, good old Ron mentioned that it was yours. Great guy, Ron." George's grin was returning.

The front door opened, and Ginny Weasley walked in.

"Hello Harry, George." Ginny greeted the two, pulling black gloves off her hands. "Well, I finally did it."

"Did what Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Broke into Witch Weekly and cancelled that ridiculous subscription that Fred and George got me."

Harry broke into a wide smile. George lost his grin and started to back away from Ginny. Harry grabbed his arm.

"Run mate." Harry advised him, grinning as Ginny chased George up the stairs.

"You don't know what I've went through, trying to hide those awful magazines and being unable to stop them coming! George Weasley, you are going to eat every single one of those horrid things..." Harry chuckled to himself as Ginny's voice trailed off.

After allowing Ginny a short chase to seriously scare George, Harry thought he should come to his rescue. Not that George deserved it, but Harry was notoriously noble.

Harry found Ginny banging at the door of Fred and George's old room. But, terrifyingly for George, who seemed to be closed in the room, Ginny was only banging with one hand and demanding George come out and face his punishment like a man. The other hand held her wand, which was moving in intricate patterns over the door. Ginny's loud voice was a front for George's benefit. She seemed delighted at his predicament.

Harry approached her slowly to let her know he wasn't a threat.

"Erm, Ginny…could you let George out now, please?"

Ginny didn't even look at Harry.

"No."

"Don't you think he's been punished enough, Ginny?"

George, who evidently was pressed against the other side of the door listening concurred with Harry.

"Yes, it's quite right, I-"

Ginny caused a loud bang to burst from her wand. George yelped and scampered away.

Ginny placed her hands on her hips and turned to face Harry.

"Harry." Ginny told him. "Do you know what I've been through thanks to their 'gift'?"

"No." Harry admitted. "And, why didn't you just throw them away?"

"Harry, magical homes don't have rubbish collection like muggle ones. Most of the time, the parents vanish the rubbish. But Fred and George got a special subscription. Some people don't want their magazines damaged, so for a surcharge, the company provides protective spells on them. To add to that, Fred and George then George alone put their own spells on them. I haven't been able to break the spells or destroy them by any means, and since the subscription was in my name, Fred and George could hold the shame over my head. And don't think I didn't try to cancel the subscription. For some ridiculous reason, Fred and George managed to place the payments in their name, and the magazines in mine, so I continually received them."

"Well, at least they had to foot the bill." Harry tried to see the brighter side. Ginny was having none of it.

"Small price to pay when they have that hanging over my head."

"You could always tell Mrs Weasley."

Ginny fixed Harry with a glare.

"Harry, I'm not Ron or Percy. I don't tell on people. I use cunning and ingenuity to break free of their plans and turn their own schemes upon them."

George had worked up the courage to sneak back.

"Yes, she's right Harry. Right scary too."

Harry silently agreed with George.

"Well, at least your Mum will know about anything Ginny does."

"Are you kidding me!" George's panicked voice filtered through the door. "Mum will go spare, thinking I planned the prank/punishment for you. Ginny will get off scot free."

Ginny had had enough. "George, for the first ten or so months, I had to put up with seeing the Magazine covered in WANTED: UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE propaganda. Then…it got worse. I started seeing Harry's picture mutilated, adorning the covers in various states of undress!" Ginny raised her already loud voice. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HORROR AND TORMENT I WENT THROUGH SEEING THOSE HORRID IMAGES?"

Ginny's wand finally worked its magic. The door flew open. Ginny ran to the Window which George had escaped from, and saw her terrified brother fleeing away from the Burrow.


	3. Hogwarts Prix

**Hogwarts Prix.**

The normally dank and dismal Slytherin Common room was a buzz of activity. Well, alright, it was still dank and dismal, but less so than usual.

The reason was the one at the centre of the room - and the attention - known as Tom Marvolo Riddle to most, and Lord Voldemort to his delusions, was bored. You see, normal extracurricular activities don't really excite one like Tom. Forced to cease and desist his Chamber-of-Secrets opening, Tom sat on the couch (taking up all the room on it, as well as the entire central table).

His miserable visage and his pasty face (when do you get a chance for a tan if you are prying for the deepest secrets of the castle deep in the deepest dungeons?) demanded entertainment. But try as his Slytherin cronies and cohorts would, they could not entertain Tom.

A first year tried a trick and fell flat on her face.

"Nice try, Odelphia. I give it a six." Tom was merciful and generous, even when bored.

The Slytherin Quidditch team came in from their practice. The captain came and tried to sit on the same sofa with Tom, unaware that the darkest teenager in all eternity had claimed it for his own.

"Captain Snake!" Tom demanded. "What are you doing on _MY _couch?"

"Sorry Tom..." Captain Snake responded, but didn't move.

Tom drew his eyelids into slits. He noticed the look in a reflection on a polished shield on the wall. _'Oooh, terrifying. I shall get a permanent silty look.'_

"I'll forgive you Captain Snake," Tom Riddle was once again, filled with mercy. "If you can tell me how I can be entertained. I am so bored. I am stupefied." Tom sighed.

Seeker Snake walked by. "You know Tom, you should really go outside. You're very good at the schoolwork, but you never get any sun."

"Well, since I have nothing better to do, I may as well. I might even find a mudblood." The Slytherins smirked whilst Tom exited the common room, searching for some way to alleviate his boredom.

After walking, and finding no solitary muggleborns to torture, Tom found himself wandering over to the quidditch pitch. The Gryffindors were there, standing around the head girl, Minerva McGonagall, who was holding a new broomstick, was surrounded by the team. The Gryffindor captain seemed to particularly admire the new riding tool in Minerva's hands.

"A Bronze Bolter! Wow, Minerva!" The captain said. The other members of the team also expressed their admiration for the new broom.

Tom, never one to do things the normal way, floated himself up the outside of the stadium. Tom, whose forehead and eyes were hovering above the seat line, observed the new broom with a mixture of derision and jealousy.

_'Well now really, those stupid Lions getting all worked up over a piece of wood. After all, I, Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard EVER, can fly unaided.' _Tom thought to himself. But, even as he rubbished it, he found himself attracted to the broomstick. _'I must ride the broomstick. I am Lord Voldemort, I get to ride anything.'_

So Tom Riddle climbed over the wall and ran down the stadium. Engrossed in their broom in the middle of the pitch, the Gryffindors failed to notice Tom's approach. Minerva was the first to spot him, and she eyed the Slytherin Sixth year prefect with distaste.

"What are you doing here, Riddle?" Minerva questioned.

Tom, lost in the throes of desire for the broom, was not his usual cold, calculating self.

"I must ride the broomstick. Please, I am so stupendously bored. Please, please, please!" Tom begged on his knees, reaching for the broom handle.

Minerva pulled it out of his reach. "This broom is for official Gryffindor use only."

"But I only want to borrow it."

"No."

Tom got up and looked at Minerva with ill-disguised loathing. "Fine, I shall find my own ride."

"You do that." Minerva said, and kept an eye on Tom Riddle until he left the pitch.

Minerva was going to be the first to try out her new broom. So, it was to her great surprise when, hovering slightly off the ground, Tom Riddle's head appeared next to her.

"Hello Lionesque neighbour!" Tom stated joyfully, quite apart from the sour and sinister attitude he normally bore. Minerva supposed he got a school broom from the shed.

But then she realised the truth. Seeing Tom sitting on the shoulder of another burly Slytherin holding a polished stick in front of him, Minerva sighed and rocketed off.

Tom leaned forward to pursue her.

"Beater Snake, I am pushing for speed but I am not moving." Tom said, kicking said Beater Snake in the back. The Beater Snake trudged after Minerva, whilst the rest of the Gryffindors looked on with disbelief.

When the sun began its descent, and the border of twilight between night and day wrapped the earth, Minerva and her friends and teammates prepared to return to the massive stone structure that was their home. But they were delayed by an unexpected and unwanted meeting with Tom Riddle and his group of cronies.

"Hello Minerva. Now you see I have my own ride." The members of Toms extended group who he brought along smirked smugly at the Gryffindor girls on the ground. The rest of the team had wandered off, leaving Minerva with her friends Rosalind, Beatrice and Cecilia.

"Riddle, a flying carpet...Where did you get it?"

"Why, I charmed it myself!" Tom looked affronted at Minerva's questioning.

Minerva thought he would have done a good job on it. "Well, good for you, Riddle. Now if you'll excuse us..."

Minerva and her friends started to walk away, when Tom remarked; "I bet my carpet is faster than your broomstick."

Minerva swung on her heels. "Are you challenging us to a race?"

"No-Yes! How do you know what I am thinking before I say it? Do you know Legillimency?"

"What? No, of course not. Well, Tom, how does midnight suit you?"

"Make it twelve A.M. No, no wait a minute, I have my pedicure at 12. Make it twelve fifteen."

"Alright, tonight, quarter past 12." Minerva said.

"Wait a minute." Rosalind added. "What about putting your money where your mouth is?"

"Okay." Tom said. "The winner gets the losers broom/carpet."

"What...our broom...we had to buy this...you can just conjure up another carpet!" Beatrice said.

"Well, of course if you are afraid..."

"No. Meet you at twelve fifteen." Minerva said.

Tom smirked to himself. _Questioning their bravery works every time._

When twelve fifteen rolled around, Minerva was waiting on her broom. Her friends Rosalind and Cecilia sat on their own brooms, ready to follow the action. Beatrice waited on the ground - she would start the race. Tom Riddle then arrived in the lap of plush luxury on his deluxe Persian flying carpet.

Cecilia though, questioned Tom's motives. "Hey, Tom." She addressed him. Tom inclined his head toward her. "You don't play Quidditch, and I don't see you ride a broom. So, why do you want ours?"

Tom smiled. "Silly girl." He said playfully. "How else am I to be going to Hogsmeade in the stylishness of the fashion?"

Cecilia merely shrugged.

Beatrice stood in front of Minerva and Tom. "Alright, the race is all around the castle and back here."

Her wand flashed red, then yellow, and finally green. Minerva and Tom and his gaggle shot off above her. Rosalind and Cecilia waited until she mounted her own broom, and then sped after the racers.

Minerva was neck and neck with Tom when Rosalind, Beatrice and Cecilia caught up with them. A crony took issue with the fact that Minerva was slowing gaining the lead, and aimed his wand to curse her. Tom reached out and held the aggressor's hand down.

"No, you fool. Dippet could check your wands. I have a better idea."

Instantly a wonderful variety of things to throw appeared on the carpet. "Chuck to your content." Tom advised them.

His cronies instantly acted. Minerva dodged a couple of unidentified projectiles, before someone got her smack in the face with a custard pie, knocking her off course as she wiped the custard away. Rosalind flew closer and vanished the custard. Tom's cronies had done their job well. Minerva was well behind them approaching the quarter mark.

As the carpet crossed the halfway line, Tom was lying down on the carpet, steering with his toes.

"Is she still well back? Say yes!"

"Uh...yes..." A crony reluctantly said.

"YES!" Tom punched the air. "Wait...are you only saying yes because I told you to?"

The crony cringed. "Yes."

"YES! Wait...NO!"

Tom got up and spun around. Another crony leapt over to keep the carpet steering. Tom saw that Minerva McGonagall had made up nearly all the ground she lost, and was nearly on his tail.

"Get her!" Tom commanded as he retook control of the carpet.

The Slytherins threw everything they had at the Gryffindors. However, this time not a single thing hit the Gryffindors. However, the dodging undertaken by Minerva and her friends meant that Tom and his group were now a small distance ahead as they raced towards the three-quarter mark.

"Looks like Riddle have us." Beatrice said.

"Stinking snakes." Rosalind remarked. "Never can win fairly."

"They haven't won yet." Minerva said, with a steely gaze at Tom's carpet. Minerva flattened her body flush against the broomstick, and she shot off like a bullet. Beatrice, Cecilia and Rosalind followed her lead.

Tom sighed with pleasure as he looked up at the starry, starry night. They were past the three quarter mark and well ahead of the ridiculous cats.

"Tom! They're back! I mean front! I mean, in front! Of us!"

Tom raised his head to the voice. "Are you now just telling me what I do not want to hear?"

"Just look!"

Much to Tom's displeasure, Minerva and her group were indeed well ahead of them. Cecilia took the time to poke her tongue out at a very offended Tom Riddle.

"Well, throw something at them!" Tom demanded.

"We've thrown everything!"

Minerva was nearly at the finish line when her face was assaulted by feathers, sending her spinning off course as Tom Riddle cruised past the finish line. The delighted Slytherins dismounted and danced with victory.

"Hagrid, you cost us the race!" Minerva said, seeing the large boy. "You can't go throwing your owls around willy-nilly!"

"She's got you there Rubeus. It's not like she's a mudblood, there are consequences."

Before Hagrid could break Tom in half, Tom sped off on his carpet, shouting. "Silly Gryffindors. When will you learn that nothing, _nothing _can stop Tom Riddle?"

A horrible keening tearing ripped the air. "Nothing but a spiked fence..." A Slytherin stated.

Tom, unhurt of course, looked back at the remnants of his carpet which hung torn from a spike. "I would shed a tear..." Tom said sadly. "If I did not have your broom!"

Tom mounted the broom. Minerva turned to her downcast friends. "I take full responsibility. You'll have my resignation from the team first thing in the A.M."

"That mightn't be necessary Minerva. I added a few extra modifications of my own." Rosalind said.

Tom Riddle was getting comfortable with his new broom. "Oooh, a pushy button with my name on it!" Tom pressed it, and was sent flying over a two storey stone wall.

"Slytherin ejector seat." Rosalind smiled, and as the Slytherins waved the broom away, Minerva picked it up, and the four Gryffindors farewelled Hagrid and returned to the school.

AN: I own nothing. Based on the Zoo Coupe episode of the Penguins of Madagascar, which I also do not own.

AN2: It is never stated that Minerva McGonagall was head girl, but if she was, it does fit in with the timeline of Tom being in his sixth year. Also, I am unsure of whether she played Quidditch, but given her fanaticism, it is not unfeasible that she did.

AN3: I am unsure of when Flying carpets were outlawed, but this is Voldemort we're talking about. Rules apply to mere mortals such as us

AN4: Beatrice, Cecilia and Rosalind are all original characters.


	4. Dramione Strikes Back

**Dramione Strikes Back.**

Once upon a time, there lived an arrogant, blond-haired snob named Draco Malfoy. At the same time, there also lived a brave, brilliant young woman, named Hermione Jean Granger. They both attended the same boarding school, and were consistent enemies. Draco looked down on Hermione for her ancestry - supposing his was better. Calling her names and derogative titles. For her point of view, Hermione mainly ignored his viciousness and cruelty, but when she did retaliate, Draco came off second best. All the time.

The two could not have been more distant. They loathed each other, their friends loathed each of the other's friends, and they fought on opposite sides in war.

So, it was with great shock when Hogwarts finally found out that inexplicably, Hermione Granger had suddenly grown 'out', her hair had de-fuzzed and pruned and straightened itself, and Draco Malfoy, rather than be a complete idiot, was now merely a lustful idiot, and found himself frothing at the mouth for the suddenly gorgeous Hermione Granger, who, needless to say, was completely below him not minutes previously.

With Hermione's new 'good looks' that seriously threatened the Hogwarts dress code, came a colossal collapse of her near - genius level intelligence. Hermione began to _understand _Draco. She pitied him, being abused and bullied into becoming a Death Eater by his father, and the continual taunting he subjected her to was just trying to show affection.

After two minutes of staring, the two proceeded to shock and horrify the innocent students about, by engaging in passionate kissing in the middle of the very public library. Which is where Hermione always is.

Of course, the astounded and disgusted Madam Pince sends the miscreants off to detention. Draco hides his new love from his Slytherin companions, but Hermione reveals all when she mentions she has detention to Ron and Harry.

The conversation goes something like this.

Hermione: "Like, guys, I like, totally got detention from Pince."

Ron: "*Expletive Deleted*"

Hermione: "Like, man, don't swear."

Ron: "I can *Expletive Deleted* as much as I *Expletive Deleted* want to. You aren't my *Expletive Deleted* mother!"

Hermione: "I will tell your mother!"

Ron: "Oh, yeah. Well *Expletive Deleted* you, then!"

Hermione: "Oh, Ron, for *Expletive Deleted* sakes, just, *Expletive Deleted* shut up!"

Harry: "Oh, shut up the both of you, I'm having such pains inside. ANGST PAINS, I TELL YOU. Oh, wait, now it's...Scar pains...no...no...now it's...Oh, wait, it is scar pains."

With Ron and Hermione glaring at each other, the reader realises that this is the end of their long friendship. Just like that.

Harry: "How did you get YEEEOWWW detention, Hermione?" Harry, instead of looking Hermione in the face like he had been for five years, stares at her figure. As does Ron, and every other male in the room.

Hermione: "Like, I, totally met Draco."

Ron: "You met Malfoy!" Ron suddenly becomes very angry, and barely restrains himself from leaping on the table and beating his chest like a gorilla.

Hermione: "Yeah, like, totally man."

Harry: "Wait...you call him Draco?"

Ron, who thanks to Harry's noticing, suddenly takes issue with the fact. "You call Draco *Expletive Deleted* Malfoy, Draco *Expletive Deleted* Nothing?"

Hermione: "What's it of your business?"

Ron: "It is my *Expletive Deleted* business!"

Hermione: *Tears forming in her eyes* "It's not your *Expletive Deleted* business, Ron, you have no *Expletive Deleted* right to say anything about my sweet Draco."

Ron: "*Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* *Expletive Deleted* with a parsnip!"

Ron storms off. Hermione is comforted by Harry, effectively breaking Harry from the entire Weasley family.

So, without Ron, Harry and Draco become best friends. Hermione and Draco defy Draco's parents and stay together, despite Hermione's constant unfaithfulness with Harry. Ron and the Weasleys, meanwhile, go broke, lose their morality and are killed off one by one just to annoy Harry and get him even more depressed.

Then, finally, Draco and Hermione announce their engagement. Narcissa may just barely approve, but Lucius and Draco face off in a duel to the death after Lucius kidnaps the suddenly useless damsel Hermione Granger.

After heroically defeating his father, Draco and Hermione, the star-crossed lovers, may finally wed.

As the celebrant is about to utter the words. "I now announce you Husband and Wife, you may kiss the bride." When Draco and Hermione just jump right in.

But then, Dumbledore (because Dumbledore knows everything) informs the couple of some devastating news.

Dumbledore: "Hermione Jean Granger nearly Malfoy?"

Hermione: "Yes, Headmaster?"

Draco: "Hey Alby."

Dumbledore: "I have some great news for you!"

Hermione: "I am so happy, on my wedding day too!"

Dumbledore: "Yes, I have search through my *Censored* and I found this!"

Hermione: "What is it? What is it?"

Dumbledore: "You are no longer a worthless Mudblood. I mean, Muggleborn."

Hermione: "Really, wow! I must be heir to the houses of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw!"

Dumbledore: "Here is your family tree. And, your long lost brother is here to see you!"

Hermione's heart swells at the thought of getting a brother.

She finds her name in Dumbledore's flowing script on the family tree he handed her. Underneath the name Krystal Abigail Celesta Raven Honey Malfoy, sister of Draco Malfoy, is the name Hermione Jean Granger.

Hermione breaks down and weeps as the guests and everyone else depart, leaving Hermione alone with a sallow - skinned, greasy haired man...


	5. Do ya feel lucky?

**Do ya feel lucky?**

Harry Potter pulled off his invisibility cloak after casting a shield charm between Molly Weasley and Voldemort.

Voldemort stood, quite stunned for a second, but quickly responded, swinging his wand up to aim it at Harry.

Harry held his wand out casually, aiming it at Voldemort.

"Now, I know what you're thinking." Harry began. "Did he destroy six Horcruxes or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all the exictment, I kind of lost track."

Emboldened, Voldemort raised his wand higher.

Harry went on.

"But considering that that is the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in existance, and I master it, you've got to ask yourself, 'do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_


End file.
